


Grieving in Stereo

by angryhearts



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Fleetwood Mac References, Grief/Mourning, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Oops, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, This Is STUPID, ghost!snake, hal is sad, snakes 50 huskies mentioned, swear words KSDJDKFSDF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 02:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryhearts/pseuds/angryhearts
Summary: A mirage is an illusion that appears to be real but isn't. Hal Emmerich has never experienced one, but it sure as hell feels like he is.





	Grieving in Stereo

Maybe the sound of the radio playing a reminiscent song is what makes Hal grieve and wail.  
  
His heart, pounding and crying out for him to turn it off, is nothing but ignored as he presses his hands to his face and lets out pitiful sobs. Dave was expected to die, and Hal knew it from the beginning, but why so early?

The pain, to him, would never go away. He couldn’t accept the fate of his partner and the memories of him and Hal together made Hal’s mind go erratic.  
Nothing could cure this pit in his chest, the feeling of loneliness and sorrow. He expected pity from those around him and received it. It was casual to have people bring flowers and other types of items to help Hal; but it, of course, made everything so much harder to get over. Maybe it was because Dave had died so recently, he would think that time to time, but then months would go by and by and he would still feel the same.

As Hal snaps back into reality, the song is still playing. 

He turns up the radio as his heart replicates the beats of the song. Hal grabs a tissue from the countertop table and wipes his eyes as the song ends, resting his hand to his cheek. He takes out the CD disc and puts it back in the cover, unable to hear any more of it. It was a simple, old 80’s tune that Dave loved to play in his car. Hal looks at the album cover, pondering what Dave liked about the specific song on this album. His hand shakes as he holds the album, tucking it in his coat pocket.  
He sits like this for a while, twirling his hair and letting his emotions settle before he makes a choice.

Hal revs up Dave’s truck, placing the CD into the disc player and turning it up to block out any other noise. 

He swears this will be the last time he even goes in this car, no matter the rush of euphoria he gets from just maybe Dave will come back and be next to him.  
Pressing his foot to the petal, Hal tries to concentrate on the road without crying or breaking down.  
  
He sinks his fingernails into the leather steering wheel, cursing under his breath.  
The stereo fuzzes, making static noises. Hal makes a small “Hm?” noise, breaking his concentration on the road.  
CD’s don’t do that… right?  
He strengthens his grip on the steering wheel, disregarding the incident.

Maybe it was because of the rain, he supposes.

He is well on his way to Dave’s grave, with some flowers he could afford in the back seat; before he feels a presence with him in the car, but he knows nothing is there. He assumes it's his imagination and continues to drive on, not letting his mind get the most of him. 

He thinks about the nights Dave would watch Neon Genesis Evangelion and other mecha animes with him, intertwined with each other on the couch eating popcorn. The nights in winter where Dave would take him outside when the Aurora Borealis happened and they would lie on the roof of Dave’s truck and watch the lights; Hal would always get too cold and cling to Dave for warmth, but Dave would end up giving him his jacket anyway.  
  
Some nights Hal would even help Dave feed his Huskies, which now were all gone but one who still lived with Hal. 

He slows the truck down, almost to the graveyard when he feels a slight shiver down his spine. He is at first panicked by this, body shaking and blood-curdling.  
He doesn’t know if he should do what his mind is telling him to do or just his own instinct.  
He decides to shrug it off, just blaming it on the chill in the car from the A/C. He rubs his wedding ring and looks at it, pursuing on his way to Dave’s grave. 

He pushes his foot to the petal once again, reaching the graveyard before parking the car outside of it. He takes the flower bouquet out of the backseat of Dave’s truck and ejects the CD before he heaves, knowing this will probably be the last time he visits Dave’s grave before he’s in his own. 

He knew, as soon as it was announced that Dave was dead, he was going to be as well. Nothing could change his mind, no matter how anxious he got about death.  
He had nothing to live for. He had no parents, barely any friends; He only a lifetime of regret and sorrow. The only person he had who could lift him from his deprecating thoughts and demeaning emotions was Dave. 

But, what was done was done, and Hal could never love someone again. That’s why he was here, after all.  
He wipes the gravestone off, reading off Dave’s name. They put “Snake” as his nickname, which wasn’t too much of a shocker to Hal. He wondered if they’d do the same to himself, putting “Otacon” in the middle of “Hal” and “Emmerich”.  
He places the flowers down next to Dave’s headstone before the wind bristles through his hair gently. He swears he can hear his name in the wind and instantaneously turns to see what is up. 

No one is there.

Hal swears under his breath before placing the Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album on top of the headstone. He feels as if the best thing he can do currently is to end it all and pray to God he’ll see Dave again when he’s gone, or at least get rid the longing in his heart.

He feels a presence behind him as he begins to sob.  
Something is pressing against his shoulder, but there’s nothing there to see.  
“Hello? This…” Hal pauses for a moment, shaking and stuttering out his words. “This… isn’t funny!” He manages to make out, on edge.

There is no response but the wind calling his name. He knows its just his imagination, and that no one is really there, but it feels so real. 

The pit in his stomach fuels his anxiety as he looks behind the tree near Dave’s grave to see someone of a large figure, almost like Dave himself. He is too far away to make out any facial features, but he has the same stature as Dave. Hal sneaks behind the tree, watching the man walk closer… and closer.

The wind blew Hal’s overcoat back and made some noise, grabbing the man’s attention as he stumbled closer.  
“Hal?” The figure asked with his hand clenched in a pocket. He was dressed in a black tuxedo, scruffy beard wrapping around his face and neck. Below his eyes drooped discolored bags, almost as black as his tuxedo. 

Hal knew who it was, and they knew who Hal was too.

**Author's Note:**

> based on the chain - fleetwood mac, and more


End file.
